Stern poem for Elaine Feinstein
The faces blur, yes,
but the actions carry through
Moving or not moving
the angle or degree matter little
except the realisation
of the powers
we all wield
are responsible
for what we do
the act politic
Storms blowing from the sou’west.
In the square the trees bend
and make noise.
Spring tides highest for 300 years
Believe me.
Page(s) 60-61
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